


Can't Sleep

by happywriter16



Series: of the lies, you and i were my favorite [1]
Category: K-Ville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Character of Color, F/M, Female Character of Color, Interracial Sex, Spoilers, Wish Fulfillment, if only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 08:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywriter16/pseuds/happywriter16
Summary: He’s not blind so he’s definitely noticed that she’s a woman and an attractive one at that.





	Can't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this back on Livejournal back in 2009 with this note: My first fic for K-Ville and not the last even though the show might not survive the strike. Any hoo, even though on the show these two characters rarely interact, I think they are hot and would be even hotter together.

He doesn’t know when it started, the not being able to sleep some nights, most nights. It started before he went to prison. He knows that for sure. His not sleeping isn’t helped by the lack of air conditioning in his apartment. Tonight of all nights, it’s busted. The night air is muggy and moving at a languid pace. Even the rapid spin of the ceiling can’t do anything to move it along. 

He should be able to sleep. It seemed like over the last few days he functioned by pure force of will because he can probably count on one hand how many hours of sleep he got when he could with the McGregor case catching the whole damn precinct in its net. He showered then fell into bed waiting for the Mr. Sandman. A glance at the clock tells him tells him he ain’t coming and it’s damn near 11pm. 

It’s the heat. He never could sleep when it was hot unless he was right in front of a fan or right under the window when they finally got a window unit in his parent’s bedroom. All of them would crowd in there when mom and dad let them, each jockeying to be closest to that cold air. 

He dresses, throwing on whatever’s nearby – a clean pair of blue jeans and a clean blue button up he’d dumped into an open box since he still doesn’t have a dresser. The bed still doesn’t have a frame. 

The advantage to living near the quarter is he can walk anywhere he wants to. The people – mostly tourists – move around him, drinks in hand or hand in hand, swaying to the music drifting out of open doors and windows. 

***

Sliding onto the leather bar stool, he surveys the inside of the bar. His eye catches hers. She lifts her drink in greeting but doesn’t make a move to join him. 

He’s not blind so he’s definitely noticed that she’s a woman and an attractive one at that. But he’s never _really_ noticed. Not the color of her skin or the color of her eyes. Or the color of her hair. He thinks it probably has something to do with the lighting and the fact that even from this distance she seems different. 

He thanks the bartender for his drink and makes his way over to her. 

“This seat taken?” he asks, sliding onto the stool before she has a chance to respond. 

“By you apparently,” she replies, her lips curling up in the smallest of smiles before she downs the last of her beer. 

“Another one for the lady,” he calls to the bartender. 

“Thanks,” she says, giving him that same smile. _Yes, there is definitely something different about her._

The pale brown of her skin stands out in sharp contrast to the white of her fitted tank. Her round face, punctuated by full, pink lips and smiling green eyes, is framed by brown curls that make her appear softer than she does at work. At work she’s always in black with her hair pulled back, not a hair out of place. He doesn’t remember her ever cracking a smile on the job. 

“So Love Tap, what’s that all about?” He catches her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. 

“I haven’t known you long enough to tell you that story.” She thanks the bartender and takes a sip. 

“Oh, I see.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” she asks, turning slightly to face him.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He mirrors her position. 

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“So you must live around here. Funny, I haven’t seen you around.” 

“Have you been looking?”

“Maybe.” He doesn’t know why he said that because truthfully she hadn’t entered his mind in a non-work related capacity until tonight.

***

Their conversation is easy because they talk about easy stuff, which is to say nothing really. No questions about themselves, the city is languishing as much as it is flourishing, how the case they are working is going nowhere.

She’s animated when she talks. She laughs a lot. Her laugh is the husky kind. The kind that tells the listener this is a real woman. The kind you like to hear in a darkened room as you whisper in her ear as she lies pressed against your front. 

She’s also very touchy-feely. He doesn’t know if this is just how she is off duty or if it’s because of the beers. Maybe it’s both. He knows she’s about as drunk as him, which is to say not at all. Just nice and relaxed. 

Drunk or not, he’s ready to have her touch him on more than just his hand. He’s ready for those lips of hers to be planted on his and not on a beer bottle. 

It’s been awhile and everything about her, right here and right now, is incredibly sexy.

He’s lost in thought as he sits in the booth they’ve since moved to. He’s leaning back against the wall, one leg outstretched, one arm resting on top of the booth.

“Cobb?” The sound of his name draws his mind back to the real her. 

“Yeah,” he says sitting up, shaking those thoughts from his head. 

“I’m not boring you, am I?” She’s smirking at him as if she knows what’s exactly on his mind. 

He should be turning his body, planting his feet firmly on the ground, giving her his full attention with every intention of telling her goodbye. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

***

The walk to his place – it’s closer – is shrouded in heat and it’s not just because of the weather. 

“Welcome.” It’s the only thing he’s said to her since they left the bar. 

She looks up at him with darkened eyes before walking past him, the corners of her lips turning up into a smile, bigger than the one from earlier in the night. She brushes his chest with her arm. It’s slight but it’s enough to fan the flames of his arousal some more. 

He’s surprised at the contact since during the walk home she stayed a careful distance away as if they wouldn’t make it to his place otherwise. He understood completely. Sleeping with her will probably turn out to be the stupidest thing he’s done since coming back and literally starting over but he’s going to do it anyway. It’s been too long, and she’s too willing, to let the moment pass. If he wasn’t so damn horny he might stop to consider why she’s so willing with him of all people. 

Thank goodness he’s too turned on to do just that. 

He flicks on the lights, watching as she surveys his unintentional or intentional – he can’t really tell – minimalism. 

“I would say you don’t plan on sticking around by the looks of this place but you don’t strike me as the decorating type.”

“You know me so well.”

“I hate to break it to you. You’re not that hard to figure out.”

 _If you only you knew._ He just smiles as he closes the distance between them. When he’s mere inches from her, the air between them growing heavier, she starts walking backwards. She turns, walking down his dark hallway looking for his bedroom. 

This time he doesn’t turn on the light because the moonlight invading the space through his uncovered windows is enough. He stands in the doorway watching the moonlight play with her hair and skin and the light in her eyes. 

“So you going to stand there staring all night?” she asks, giving him that no nonsense attitude he’s used to at work. He smiles again, even chuckling to himself, before pushing off the doorframe to go to her. She meets him halfway, their bodies colliding in a rush of finality.

Her lips are as soft as he’d imagined. He would almost feel bad for bruising them if she wasn’t giving as good as she’s getting. She tastes of beer and something else he can’t quite identify and he chalks that up to being her. And he likes it. A lot. It probably means nothing, just the alcohol, the late hour, or the fact that he needs to get laid. 

His hands move down her neck, down her arms, feeling the creaminess of her skin before coming to rest on her hips. His fingers skim the warm exposed flesh of her sides as her shirt rides up. She flinches slightly under his touch, which causes him to smile against her cheek at the thought that she’s ticklish. 

She licks a trail down his chin, down to the hollow of neck, tasting the salty tang of his skin. Her hands, after having moved under his shirt, splay themselves across his chest. He steps back to pull his shirt over his head. She does the same, deftly removing her bra in the process. They come together again, the warm press of her breasts against his skin makes the pressure between his legs that much greater. He backs her into the bed until she’s lowering herself, him following quickly behind her. He’s plundering her mouth while his hand works the button and zipper of her jeans.

Once her pants and underwear are off, he slips a finger between her folds, pushing into the slick heat of her. She arches under his touch. One finger, then two, both sliding easily in and out. Her nipples harden under the assault of his tongue then his teeth. The moan he elicits when his teeth scrape over the pebbled flesh send jolts of electricity to his groin that would have him spilling into his pants if he was a younger man.

“Be right back,” he whispers into her ear. She watches the smooth planes of his back that taper to a slim waist as he walks out of the room. When he returns, he still has his jeans on but they’re unzipped, his cock making its presence known. She kneels, gesturing for him. He stands before her and drops the condom into her open palm. He hisses at the feel of her hand wrapped around his manhood as she slides the condom on. 

She lies down, gesturing for him again, not that he needs to be told. He enters her slowly but she has other ideas for her legs wrap around him, pushing him into her hard and fast. Her head rolls back, exposing the delicate skin of her neck. He kisses it, her shoulders, the valley between her breasts. 

With every thrust of his, she matches it. Her hands move up and down his back in some desperate attempt to grip him. They are both coated in sweat as they add to the thick heat in the room. The usual night noises of his neighborhood drifting in through all the open windows are drowned out by their sounds. He can feel sweat pooling in different places, can hear the way it changes the sound of flesh upon flesh. Before long, he can feel the beginning shocks of his climax. He grounds out ‘fuck’ trying to hold on a little longer. _It’s definitely been too long._

She responds by pushing him up and back until he’s lying on his back. She doesn’t put him back inside her right away once she’s straddled him. Instead she kisses him; body pressed close, her pussy just above his cock, his cock sliding against her ass. It’s not better than being inside her. It’s just as tortuous though, not really doing anything to stave off the desire to come. He bucks up, a hand pressing her lower body into his. She grinds down like she’s trying to get herself off.

 _All you had to was say so._ With one hand going to the base of his dick to hold off his climax the other goes in search of clit. She helps by putting his hand right where she wants it with the right amount of pressure.

With each press, she grinds down on him before she’s falling forward, one of her hands pressed into the mattress above his right shoulder. It’s all her now getting herself off, both his hands running up and down her slick skin. Seeing her hair stick to her skin, hearing her moans, feeling her body shake has him giving her no time to come down. 

She’s pliable, him moving her until he can slide into her. He shifts his hips up, hard, as hard as he can manage. He’s fucking her hard. And she’s taking it, hands braced on the bed and lower body pushing against him with every thrust. Before long he’s thrusting into her one final time, spilling into her. When he’s done, she collapses beside him, her chest heaving as rapidly as his. 

***

When he wakes up, he has no idea what time it is but it’s still dark outside. He’s instantly aware that he’s not alone as flashes of what happened a few hours ago – he guesses – flash in his mind’s eye. He turns in her direction, propping himself up. 

“Hey,” he says to her. She only mumbles a response, burrowing herself further into one of his pillows. The sight of her like this – hair a mess, uncovered skin for miles – makes his cock twitch. _Time for round two._ “So Love Tap, what’s that all about?” he whispers in her ear.

He can hear her laughter as well as feel it as he presses into her. Her laughter in the dark is just how he imagined it to sound earlier.

“So was this just your way of finding out the meaning behind my nickname?” she questions, her voice thick with sleep and laughter, as she turns to look at him over her shoulder. 

“No,” he replies before capturing her lips in a quick kiss. “That was actually my cure for insomnia. I just thought I’d take advantage of your present condition.” 

She laughs again as she turns to face him completely. “I still haven’t known you long enough so ask me over breakfast.”

He looks at the clock to see what time it actually is. “More like dinner.”

“What?” she asks, turning to look at the clock as well. “Shit. We lost a day.”

“I’d say it was worth it. Best damn sleep I’ve had in a long time.”


End file.
